The Life Of The Daughter Of NCIS

Chapter 25: Very, Very Pissed

Three weeks later
Azalea

It's extraordinary how quickly you get sucked into the institutional life of a hospital. I wake in the morning to the same juddering rattle of the breakfast trolley, I order the same watered down orange juice filled with pieces of pulp and accept a cocktail of colourful plastic medication from the three nurses I had come accustomed to. I listen to my consultant and my dad discussing treatments, and try to nod at the appropriate times.

Then a member of the team comes to sit with me, and make slightly awkward small talk, in the beginning they had to constantly remind me of simple things, I personally think that they're worried the wrong thing said would set me off into an emotional turmoil, or convinced that I would be pulled out of the window by someone at any moment.

When the evening comes round the whole cycle begins again. It's tiring. I just want to be treated normal again.

For Tony to joke with me and Abby to engulf me in one of her bone-crushing hugs, for Tim to invite me for a game of Call Of Duty zombies and Dad to treat me like his daughter rather than a patient.

"I have some great news!" I look up at my consultant, Dr. Lawton, I think his name was. I look up at him, deadpan, and roll my eyes, his artificial happiness irritating me already.

"What's that, a pink fluffy unicorn?" I asked sarcastically, he was taken back by my abrasive attitude and his smile wavered, McGee shifted in his seat uncomfortably, I wasn't usually like this.

I bit my lip and turned to face the other direction, I would love to blame the mixture of drugs I'd been taking like tic-tacs for the past week, but I just was really tired and really, really pissed off.

"Well..." the door cut him off, I flicked my eyes to the side before returning them to the not so interesting tree I was staring at. Dad seemed to sense the tense atmosphere.

"Out. Both of you." he ordered, opening the door for them, McGee sped out as if he was on fire, and with a lingering look the doctor followed.

The door closed with a slam, I carried on inspecting the gnarled tree. I could feel him studying me. "Stop analysing me." I snapped, turning on him like a coiled snake. Dad stayed silent but something had changed in his eyes.

Shock maybe?

I had never snapped at anyone before. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?" I laughed, it was so predictable, "you're not my therapist." I saw Dad smirk in the corner, which surprised me. He grabbed a chair and sat across from me "I have an idea," Dad stated. I slowly turned to him, he had a small smile on his face, not like the ones I had become used to in hospital but a smile I knew all too well; one that meant every rule was going to be broken.

Dad passed me the crutches leant against the wardrobe, I slid my hands through the grey rings and pushed myself off the bed, my arms tremored and I thought I would collapse, but after a few seconds my arms adjusted. I looked down at my outfit, a pair of sport leggings and a loose t-shirt, and hoped it would be acceptable for whatever we would be doing.

Sneaking out was the hard part.

Curious medical staff seemed to be waiting at every turn, and I felt that they all knew that we were escaping and how wrong that was. With a polite nod and smile on Dad's behalf we were out in the sunshine within ten minutes, and long before my own doctor stopped us. I propelled myself over to the Jeep as fast as the sticks would carry me, glaring at Dad when he came around to help me, I was determined to do this by myself.

I sat upright in the seat, the gashes in my back were burning, sweat mixed with the constant strain of using my upper body to move around had irritated them, and I regretted not waiting to after my afternoon dose of painkillers.